When Two Worlds Divide (On Hold)

Chapter 14 - What Is Right

So this chapter is set maybe three weeks on from the next one. Aragorn is like on the brink of extinction and Legolas had been having the dreams about the Witch King every night. So yeah I didn't want to write another filler so I just stuck it up here! But enough ranting! Onwards and Upwards! On to the actual story...

Enjoy...

Legolas stumbled. The human in his arms gasped in pain at the sudden movement and the Prince instantly regretted his clumsiness. Stars, what's wrong with me? He thought in frustration.

In truth, Legolas knew that was wrong with him. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally, from walking night and day with the human. Hunting, finding water, guarding every night. It had all steadily taken its toll on his elven body. Damn mortals. Can't take care of themselves, can they? But then again, it was him who had walked right into the Nazgul's trap. There were more heroic ways to get captured, that was for sure.

His bones felt heavy, his head pounding. Every step felt as though someone had filled his boots with stones and forced him to walk. There was only one thing keeping him going.

He was home.

Home, in Greenwood. In Mirkwood. Back beneath the trees that had been his companions all his long life. And every sluggish step took him closer and closer to Thranduil's halls. He should arrive today.

The very prospect of seeing his father again filled every part of him with joy. So why was one part of him still holding back? Something in the back of his mind, elvish foresight maybe, told him that maybe going back wasn't such a good idea. He pushed the thought aside. He hadn't rescued this damn mortal only to see him die.

In all honesty, Legolas had no idea how the human was still breathing. His brow crinkled. There was more to this man than met the eye, that much was certain. Something about him seemed almost familiar, like a ghost of a memory. Which is what it probably was. Maybe Legolas had known his father...? Shaking his head, the elf sighed. These mortals all looked the same to him.

The human was a mortal. So why wasn't he dead? Legolas doubted some elves could have survived this long. But this man had. It didn't make sense.

Shut up and get home. He told himself. Stop fretting about why he's alive and focus on trying to keep it that way instead.

Images swirled in his mind of the palace, of his father. He was looking forward to getting back.

———

Finally, he was here. The gates swung open, their slight screeches of protest accompanied by the shouts of guards at seeing a rather bedraggled Prince Legolas carrying... was that a human in his arms? Murmurs spread through the crowds gathered all around.

Legolas, however, was unaware of all this. Oh Valar, he thought. Wha- Then his eyes rolled back in his head, and he crumpled to the floor in an exhausted heap and did not rise again.

Citizens of all ranks rushed forward in an attempt to help the fallen royalty, and even a few common thieves wound their way in in the hope of picking up few extra coins from unsuspecting villagers, and maybe even the prince himself. But none of them got close enough for that as the guards formed a firm ring about him. The healers were quickly summoned and both prince and ranger were carried away.

———

Legolas attempted to open his eyes. This proved strangely difficult, however, and his eyelids remained firmly closed. Confusion and panic gripped him simultaneously and he held up a hand to feel his face when a sharp slap brought it hastily back down again. Legolas froze. He was not alone.